


I Want To Sleep

by SugarTwinkPelle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adamant Fortress (Dragon Age), Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Skyhold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 15:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17880578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarTwinkPelle/pseuds/SugarTwinkPelle
Summary: After settling disputes with the Wardens at Adamant, Pelle is struggling to cope with the actions he was forced to take in order to bring the Wardens back together for the Inquisition.





	I Want To Sleep

After settling disputes with the Wardens at Adamant, Pelle is struggling to cope with the actions he was forced to take in order to bring the Wardens back together for the Inquisition.

Work Text:

Could the crackling fire be any more haunting? At what point did the sound of snapping twigs under the scorching flame begin to muddle with the sound of breaking bones? Should that tell the Inquisitor something about himself? At what point did death become something he thought about so naturally? Jokes aside, it disgusted Pelle just how normal it had become for him to take the life of another. As a healer, it racked his soul with guilt to even think about.

Pelledir spent several nights drowning in these thoughts. It was as if his brain lived to tear him down when the moment of silence finally arrived. It kept him from sleeping, kept him from eating, it kept him from functioning the way any living creature should.

“For the Inquisition..” He murmured before giving a scoff that slowly became choked laughter. “Sod it.” He hissed burying his face into his anchored hand.

What Pelledir would have given to erase the image of Varric’s grief from his mind. What he would give to forget the story Varric told about Hawke inviting his pursuers to a game of Wicked Grace, to unsee Varric writing the news to Hawke’s lover Fenris. He would give anything….literally anything to have returned to Skyhold with better news than he’d brought.

Why must everything end in death? Could nothing be solved without tragedy? If only the Inquisitor were still naive enough to believe such a thing. He used to be, it felt like his innocent ideals were years behind him. In reality, it had been but mere months. It was no wonder his Keeper did not wish for him to leave the Clan nor lead them. Amazing how quickly reality had ever so delicately destroyed him.

“Thinking of taking a dip into the flames are we? I wouldn’t advise it. It’s terrible for the skin I hear.”

A familiar voice. A voice that could brighten any of the doom and gloom Pelledir was forced to behold on a daily basis. Today, however, he didn’t want to be blessed with it. He didn’t deserve it. Still, the pleasure that came with hearing the voice of his lover had put a weak smile on his face. He did not turn to face them for fear of exposing his grief bound expression. If he could keep from being comforted he would, he wasn’t the one who needed it after all. Not the way he saw it at least.

“Something told me you’d be up here groveling to yourself for forgiveness. Allow me to save you a bit of time. You won’t find it. Not here at least.”

Pelledir let out a deep sigh. “Why are you here Dorian?” He inquired still obstinately refusing direct eye contact with the Tevinter mage.   
He offered no more than a passive glance. It was perhaps the swiftest look he’d ever taken of Dorian. He often took in long swooning gazes of the mage paying attention to every detail, every buckle on that outfit of his. Even with the short glance, he’d spared he could not resist noticing the pair of captivating eyes that watched over him with such a disquiet silence. From the corner of his amber eyes, Pelledir saw Dorian lean against the frame of the wooden banister.

“Do I need a reason?” He replied only tossing the question right back.

Of course. Dorian could never answer a question without spitting one right back. How could the Inquisitor expect any less? Ever since they’d met Dorian was always making Pelledir think. He would question the words Pelledir uttered and even inform him that what he spoke was utter nonsense. It was a part of who they were as a pair. Dorian could not answer a question without asking another, meanwhile, Pelle could never be clear nor concise with his words. As far as Dorian was concerned the Inquisitor rarely mean what he said entirely. There was always at least one small detail left out, sometimes that detail was pleasurable and other times not.

“I suppose not,” Pelledir replied. “It wouldn’t be the first time you appeared in here without warning.”

“Nor will it be the last,” Dorian remarked standing up straight and inviting himself inside.

Dorian had not even taken a seat beside him just yet and already Pelledir could feel a warm sensation start to resonate from his pale body. Seeing the mage’s shadow casting over him seemed enough to bring him a somewhat comforting sensation. Even now the Inquisitor did not look back. Though he could feel that Dorian’s presence would soon become closer upon him he still could not bring himself to show Dorian just how distraught he felt. It was nothing to do with secretiveness or trust. He simply refused to make a burden of himself when he had made the choice all on his own.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Said Dorian folding his arms over his chest and shifting his weight to his left side.

“Do you?” Pelle asked bitterly.

Dorian frowned at the harshly uttered words. “Knowing you, you’re probably wallowing in your own despondency. Blaming yourself for some unfortunate turn of events because you cannot find another scapegoat to take it for you.”

‘Perhaps I was not looking for one Dorian.”   
“Nonsense. You are always looking.” Dorian immediately retaliated.

“Perhaps I should stop…” Said Pelledir tugging his thin legs closer to his chest until the elf was practically wrapped in a ball.

To this Dorian only sighed. He would love for Pelledir to stop being so hard on himself. While he would not admit he often dreamed of what the Inquisitor might be if he did not loathe himself so much. However, maybe it was good for him to be so self-aware. It was in a way comforting to see that Pelledir was not a mindless tyrant.

“...Amatus.” Dorian spoke softly lowering himself to the floor to sit beside Pelledir.

“Don’t.” Was all Pelle had to say in response. He shot Dorian an icy glare, the first time he’d taken a real look at the mage since he’d visited the Inquisitor’s quarters.

Dorian did not retaliate the stern demand of his lover. He could understand why Pelledir would feel the need to act defensively but Dorian had had no intention of laying a hand on him. He knew his Amatus quite well. Better than the elf thought surely. Dorian knew better than to touch Pelledir when the elf was spiraling down into a cesspool of his own despair. He was the type to punish himself harshly when he believed he deserved some kind of retribution for his deeds. Quite the contrast to Dorian who would simply drink himself into a stupor.

“Listen,” Dorian said softly. “That man, Hawke.”

“Dorian.” Pelledir quickly tried to cut him off but he could not stop Dorian from finishing his thought.

“He chose to stay behind. He was prepared to sacrifice himself or he would not have offered.”

“So did Stroud.” Pelledir argued. “And yet I let him live.”

“You were faced with a decision and you made one. Regardless of who stayed behind you must remember that you did not ask for them to. I was there, not once do I recall you offering up their lives as a sacrifice to that disgusting beast.”

“This isn’t just about Hawke, Dorian!” Pelledir snapped back angrily. “You said it yourself, for someone who kills so many people it seems odd that I show any remorse for one life. One petty life. But I do alright. You think I like killing people?”

Dorian fell silent. So this was a long term wound. The Fade had only sprinkled that small pinch of salt needed to cause the catalyst within Pelledir to burst.

“Did you see the look on Varric’s face when we returned without Hawke?” Pelledir asked him lowering his voice.

Dorian gazed at Pelle a long while before responding. Now that he was this close to the elf, his broken expression was much more real than it had been from the banister. He half expected Pelledir to burst into tears right there. He was forcing them back that was blatantly obvious to Dorian. His question was for what reason had Pelledir denied himself the right to mourn properly. He had not expected anyone to see him, he had not planned to receive guests to his quarters. So why was he punishing himself to the extent of forbidding himself to express his own emotions fully?

“I can’t say I have.” Dorian replied.

Pelledir gave a broken smile before finally turning to Dorian. “I wish I didn’t.” He said unable to stop the tears from spilling down his face.

Dorian’s face was sullen as he watched the elf cry beside him. How long had this been troubling him? Dorian knew Pelledir did not enjoy killing, but often times he did it out of the necessity to defend himself or the innocent. How long had he been considering the friends and families or those he struck down?

“You mustn’t think too hard Amatus.” Said Dorian softly.

“If I don’t who will?” Pelledir answered him hanging his head low into his knees. “How would you have felt had I chosen to kill Alexius?”

Dorian chose his words carefully. He didn’t want the Inquisitor to think he was just trying to appease him. If he’d wanted that, he would have agreed with everything Pelledir said.

“I think you had the right.”

Pelledir raised his hanged head with a distasteful glare. “And who decides that right?” He hissed.

“Conscience Pelledir.” Said Dorian firmly.

“Is that it? Do you actually believe that’s enough?” The Inquisitor asked just as sharply as Dorian had replied.

“Do we have a choice? Frankly, that’s all we’re given to work with. If every psychotic extremist was allowed to live the world would disappear under their feet. Surely you must understand that?”

Pelledir chose not to answer. He returned his attention back to the crackling flame. He hated to admit it but Dorian was right. They had little more than judgment to blame for this. The only difference between his judgment and that of those he killed was that he was being ordained by the entire world.

“Answer me this Pelledir.” Dorian began. He shifted his body slightly to the left to better face the Inquisitor. Brushing his rough fingers beneath the elf’s chin he lifted Pelledir’s gaze to meet his own. “Do you believe you can stop Corypheus without killing him? Because I don’t.

Pelledir’s amber eyes like resin fossils went wide. He knew what Dorian was trying to tell him. That did not mean he had to like it. Despite his woes he would be justified regardless of the choices he made. The Inquisition would see to that, they both knew it. Dwelling on the dark and bloody history being written was only good for breaking the spirit.

“You know they will bring Erimond to face your judgment.” Dorian remind him. “When that time comes do not think about the people in his life. He disappointed them long ago when he joined some cracked magister looking to destroy the world. Rather, think and remember why you are judging him, remember the Wardens he killed and all the people who loved them instead. Surely they are more worthy of your grief.

Pelledir’s frown broke into a weak smile. “When did you become so wise?” He attempted to tease through the humour was lost between the cracking in his voice.

“Wise?” Dorian laughed briefly. Pelledir’s voice may have sounded solemn but Dorian knew a tease, even a broken one. “That’s something I’ll have to add to my list of virtues.” He stated playfully lowering his fingers slowly to brush the spreads of vallaslin on the Inquisitor’s pale neck.

“Do me a favor and tell me you are done punishing yourself,” Dorian said in a low voice.

“Maybe...”

Dorian wasted no time once those words were spoken. Gently he tugged Pelledir closed and pressed his lips against the elf’s. Upon the first taste of the Tevinter’s lips, the Inquisitor could not deny that he was a little angry with Dorian for pushing a romantic advance on him while he was so despondent. But then he remembered how upset Dorian had been also been when they returned to Skyhold. He had listened to Dorian yell at him that he was worried that Pelledir hadn’t made it into the Fade, how he waited far too long for him to arrive. The two had argued briefly about Pelledir’s recklessness. Or at least...that was how Dorian had seen it at the time. Now that the heat of the fight had simmered down between them Pelledir had realized that Dorian must have been dying to offer his affections. Perhaps he even felt bad for the way he’d snapped on him earlier. When the Inquisitor put it in that perspective he was more reluctant to feel cross about this kiss. He shut his eyes so he could focus more deeply on the kiss and leaned his head in closer to Dorian’s, an invitation to kiss him harder.

Dorian’s facial hair tickled against the Inquisitor’s skin as he wrapped his arms around Dorian’s neck. He couldn’t resist the soft hum that escaped his throat between kisses. While Pelledir had convinced himself tonight that he was undeserving of Dorian’s affection the Tevinter’s love to him was like lyrium was to a Templar. No matter how long he shied away he would always return. He would always want Dorian.

Pelledir felt a smile tug at his lips as he began to notice Dorian’s hands exploring his body from beneath the blanket he was wrapped in. The small touches of skin against his waist sent chilling sparks throughout his body as Dorian held onto Pelledir’s waist tenderly.

Slowly breaking the kiss between the two of Pelledir leaned his head against Dorian’s chest. He gave a deep sigh, he needed that more than he’d thought he did. Without another word, the Inquisitor sat up and unwrapped the blanket from around himself and draped it over the Tevinter’s shoulder. He then crawled closer to Dorian and returned to his previous place leaning against Dorian’s chest and closed his eyes.

“What would I do without you Vhenas?” He said softly cuddling his blond head into Dorian.

Dorian smiled warmly at the elf buried in his chest. He asked himself the same quite often. While the two certainly had their quarrels they kept each other balanced. It was nice to have someone like that, not many people ever did. The Tevinter ran his fingers through Pelledir’s hair and gently massaged the elf’s scalp. It was clear to him the Inquisitor was exhausted both physically and emotionally. Pelledir could use the rest and to be honest, so could Dorian after what they’d just dealt with.   
Dorian waited until he was certain that Pelledir was asleep, he never stopped caressing the elf’s head lovingly. Once he felt the shallow resting breaths rising and falling from Pelledir’s chest he knew it was safe to get some sleep as well.


End file.
